Unnecessary words
by memelovescaps
Summary: REAL PERSON SLASH Benedict Cumberbatch/Martin Freeman. Benedict never asks what happens when Martin knocks at his door, he just gives him what he needs. They never talk about it, after all words are unnecessary between them. Are they?


**Hello again! I come back this time, still with Sherlock in my head, with a really short fic. This is Real Person Slash, with Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman as protagonists, so be careful if you don't like these kind of stories.**

**Title: **Unnecessary words

**Author: **Meme (myself)

**Disclaimer: **Neither Benedict nor Martin belong to me (I wish!), and although I enjoy imagining and writing about them being together, that's all invented, and they both are perfect heterosexuals.

**Beta:** A huge thank you to Isabellatrix_Black_Swan who corrected this =)

**Warnings:**

1) Fluff, sugar, love, hearts and a little bit of angst in some parts.

2)** REAL PERSON SLASH**, if you don't like real people to be put together, please leave.

3) I don't know Benedict or Martin for real so I don't know their reactions to any of the situations here described. Again, it's all product of my imagination.

4) English is not my first language, so if there are any mistakes, forgive me and please tell me.

And now, ENJOY!

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><p><strong>Unnecessary words<strong>

Benedict doesn't ask anything when he opens the door and finds Martin there. He knows he should, but he doesn't because he knows that it would be useless. Martin is not a man of words, and he already knows the answer. It is the same answer he gets when he asks himself why every time he sees Martin, or even thinks of him, he can notice his heart beating faster; or why he feels so comfortable when he feels Martin's body near his. None of his former girlfriends has ever elicited in him what Martin does – that is one of the many reasons he is now single again, although it is one that will never come to light – and he knows why this is happening, though he isn't sure he wants to confront it for the time being.

Benedict knows this shouldn't feel right. Oh, yes, he knows; he's been thinking about that a considerable amount of time. And he knows that every time Martin knocks the door –after quarreling with his wife, he assumes– Martin's marriage is a little bit more split. But in spite of all that, every time his friend knocks at the door he can't bring himself to tell him he's doing the wrong thing.

In fact, he is secretly pleased that Martin's there. From all the places he could've gone he's turned to him; and Benedict wants to help, though he knows deep inside that the best thing he could do to help his friend is to stop seeing him. But he can't handle it, he can't think about a life without Martin Freeman in it, not anymore. So all he does is make way to let him in, and then close the door behind him.

Martin has been there a few times already so he knows the way to the living room. There, he takes off his jacket and leaves it on a chair.

"Cup of tea?" asks Benedict, but Martin is not looking at him, not even listening. Benedict frowns while he sees his co-star approaching the window, completely silent, and he frowns even more when he realizes that Martin has neither opened his mouth nor looked at his eyes.

So Benedict does what he knows Martin needs. He approaches him, until he stands right behind him, and places a hand on his shoulder. Martin gives a start but doesn't move, and Benedict approaches, until Martin's back is nearly against his chest. Then, as in slow motion, Benedict's right arm surrounds his chest, while the other is placed on his belly, and after that he pulls them together until their bodies are in complete contact. Benedict closes his eyes for a moment; he had secretly been wishing for something like that to happen, but a few seconds after that a thought of guilt comes to his mind. Martin is sad, something has happened to him, most probably something related to his wife, and he must put aside his wishes to be a good friend to Martin and comfort him. Because that's what they are, aren't they? Good friends.

Martin places his head over Benedict's shoulder and his body starts trembling, so Benedict hugs him a little bit closer. The Sherlock star leans his face a little and just stares at his friend, wishing for one second to be able to erase the sad expression in Martin's eyes. Then he leans his face a little bit more, and starts stroking Martin's cheek with his own cheek. It feels strange, to be caressing another man's face and to feel Martin's beard tickling his cheek, but that doesn't mean it isn't nice.

Words are not necessary between them; it's been a long time since they stopped feeling the need to fill in the uncomfortable silences. Now they can understand each other with a gaze, a smile, or a caress. Now Benedict knows what Martin needs, and although he knows that it is not right and that it shouldn't be happening, in those moments he couldn't care less. Did the consequences ever matter to him when he felt Martin's lips kissing his cheek, seeking for something only he can give him; or when he felt Martin's body trembling against his, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt?

Benedict knows they should, but any rational thought abandons him the moment he notices Martin's hand in his cheek. He closes his eyes for one second, and when he opens them again, Martin's is just a few millimeters from him, looking into his eyes. Benedict smiles sweetly, he can't do it in any other way when he has Martin in his arms, and then he gently closes the distance between them, slowly brushing Martin's lips. Martin answers with urgency but Benedict calms him down kissing, biting and sucking his lips really slowly and softly. Martin can notice Benedict's left hand going up and down his belly, caressing it, while the right one is stroking his arm. But he wants more, much more, and the hand which was in Benedict's face travels to his hair, losing itself and entwining his fingers in it, just as he always does, in an attempt to deepen the kiss.

What they feel is a complicated issue to confront, and none of them wants to. Though they both know what's happening; from the very first day they saw each other, they knew. Benedict with his tight dark jeans, his shirt and his auburn long hair that anyone would love to caress; Martin with his jumpers, his cuteness and his smile everywhere he goes. Their eyes, blue against green. As soon as they met each other they knew something would happen, something inevitable, terribly unaccepted and, nonetheless, that would make them feel alive, truly alive.

The first time it had happened was nearly a year ago. Benedict was surprised to see Martin knocking at his door, but he let him in and they both sat on the sofa, looking at each other's eyes. They didn't know how it happened; they only knew that they were staring at each other and one second later they were kissing as if their lives depended on it, while their clothes were disappearing at an amazing speed. From that day on, Martin would always flee to Benedict's arms, and Benedict would always give him shelter, because he just couldn't bear the gaze of Martin so gloomy. But perhaps now it's the right time to face it.

"You think it is because of my wife, don't you?" Martin's voice sounds rough, as if he hadn't been talking for a long time. He separates his body from Benedict's a little, just the small distance he needs to turn around and look at Benedict's face without having his neck turned.

"Why do you say that?" asks Benedict, looking at Martin's eyes.

"Because it is always like that, you assume I come here because of my wife" answers Martin. Benedict nods, and Martin shakes his head "It's not what you think."

"You never said anything, and I never asked" answers Benedict with a tone dangerously similar to the one he uses when he plays Sherlock "if you come here really sad and presumably after being at home, of course I assume it's because of your wife."

But Martin shakes his head again. He approaches Benedict once more, until their noses are touching, and kisses the tip. Benedict closes his eyes while his arms have surrounded again Martin's body, without even noticing.

"I thought I had made clear why I keep coming" whispers Martin, kissing Benedict's cheek "but apparently it's not clear enough."

Martin waits until Benedict opens his eyes again, his blue expressive eyes, which can make you melt or freeze in seconds. When he does, his lips turn into a smile, the most beautiful smile Benedict has ever seen. The taller man smiles back, incapable of hiding what he feels when his friend smiles at him, but then his eyes open widely in surprise. Martin has caught his lips so fast he hadn't even noticed until he feels them being kissed, with urgency but also very gently, with rush but also taking his time. Martin opens his mouth, giving Benedict the chance to go over every nook and cranny, to explore and to encounter his tongue, which answers back to the stroke Benedict's giving it.

When they both need to breathe their lips spread, but they don't move away from each other.

"Does that mean… what I think it means?" asks Benedict raising his eyebrows in total surprise, their lips still touching when they speak. If that's the case, it will change everything.

"I think it is" answers Martin with a soft smile "My wife is the last thing in my mind when I come here, Ben. I can assure you that."

Benedict is about to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, he places his hands on Martin's cheeks, stroking them while he looks down to Martin's eyes. They are not bloomy anymore, they are glowing, and a sweet smile is on his lips. Benedict can't resist it and within a second he is kissing once more those lips that drive him mad. After all, sometimes words are unnecessary.

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><p><strong>So that's it! I hope you liked it, and please give me reviews with your thoughts, they are much appreciated! Thank you :)<strong>


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